Taken For Granted
by Diana Alexander
Summary: During Dreamland II, Scully starts thinking


DISCLAIMER: The characters in this piece of fiction that are  
recognizable from Chris Carter's insane piece of work known as  
the X-Files belong to him, his company Ten-Thirteen Productions  
and Fox Broadcasting. Anything else, characters, situations or  
otherwise, belong to this very insane author.  
RATING: G  
CLASSIFICATION: VRA  
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance; missing scene story  
SPOILERS: Everything up through Dreamland II is game g  
FEEDBACK: always welcome at dmulder@flashmail.com  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere's fine... Gossamer, Xemplary, Ephemeral,  
yeah... whatever... *grin*  
SUMMARY: During Dreamland II, Scully starts thinking...  
  
**********************  
Taken For Granted  
(Part 1 of 1)  
By: Diana Alexander  
dmulder@flashmail.com  
**********************  
  
I remember a time when I stood by my partner's bedside as he  
told me that he loved me. Now, in retrospect, it seems like such  
a long time ago, since for the past two days, the man who has  
been beside me in work has not been the Mulder that I've known  
and enjoyed the company of for the past six years.  
  
Yes, we had our difficult times, and yes, we caused each  
other pain by blocking the other out, but I've never before  
looked into Mulder's eyes and saw a stranger there until Morris  
decided to take over. There was always a compassionate person  
there, a caring person, despite his insanity. And that annoying  
need to protect me by ditching me.  
  
He explained that reasoning to me once, during one of our  
long car drive conversations. I shook my head at him at the time  
as I told him that he didn't need to protect me. I was perfectly  
capable of taking care of myself. He smiled, and laughed, then  
told me that he knew that very well. In fact, he reminded me,  
I'd had to pull *his* ass out of the fire more often than he  
returned the favour. But still, he explained, the need was  
there.  
  
He's gotten a little better about that, which is why his  
crazy ditch for that ship in the Bermuda Triangle threw me for  
such a loop. Since Antarctica, he's been asking me to go these  
places with him. Just like he asked me to go to Area 51... has  
it been two days ago?   
  
After we left Area 51 was when all of this started. Don't  
get me wrong; I love Mulder and I'm used to his craziness. I  
miss the X-Files as much if not more than he, despite the fact  
that he doubts that. However, until now, I never realized just  
how much I told the man for granted.  
  
Yes, you heard me right. I take the man for granted, and  
never realized just how much until this damn Morris character  
took over his life. I think it was the simple things that  
finally convinced me that something was horribly off. Mulder  
seldom uses my first name, and never as callously as Morris has  
been using it these past few days. Mulder made it like a caress  
most of the time, no matter which name he spoke. Above that,  
even when he didn't agree with me, most of the time, he listened  
to me.  
  
From the moment that Morris took Mulder's place, I haven't  
experienced this, and I miss it. I miss it like hell, and  
despite the fact that I didn't have the proof to go on, I knew  
that something was going on. I just didn't know exactly what.  
After at least a day of pondering, my mind finally made the  
connection of the switch in the middle of a Quickie Mart in the  
middle of the Nevada desert.  
  
I'm still kicking myself in the ass for not recognizing it  
before then. However, everything has turned out as well as could  
be expected. I sigh, and remember the conversation that just  
took place out in the desert. Me and Mulder, with Morris left in  
the car, discussed this, and I hated to tell him that they could  
find no way. I felt like I had given up on him.  
  
Despite that, despite everything else, he still delivered  
that same Mulder concern for my job, for me, that he always did.  
How could I tell him that it had ceased being about the job a  
long time ago? Even before a bee sting that sent me to the  
depths of Antarctica, really, if I admit it to myself.  
  
Now, an hour after the fact, I'm sitting in the middle of the  
bed, just thinking about what we talked about. Despite the fact  
that the Mulder that allowed me to see what he really was made of  
over these past six years was in the body of a man in black that  
was probably reaching his mid-life crisis, it was still him. He  
still had the same smart ass responses, and above all else, the  
same concern for me.  
  
*This* is the man who told me that he loved me in a hospital  
room after he returned from the Bermuda Triangle a little over a  
week ago.  
  
*This* is the man who brings my own sarcastic sense of humour  
to new heights just to keep up with him, which I do joyfully.  
  
*This* is the person who told me, heart and soul in his eyes  
and voice that I was the one who made him a whole person, and  
dispelled the doubts I'd had since Diana Fowley, his old flame  
walked back on the scene.  
  
Another million scenes run through my mind as I sit there,  
half undressed, on this bed. A teasing, "I had you big time" on  
a rooftop in Dallas simply because I had made him panic. The  
green eyes give it away every time. A conversation in a car,  
where he accuses me of following a hunch, then proclaiming in an  
innocent voice that no one in their right mind would believe.  
  
There are a thousand other moments running through my mind  
now, but most of all, I remember the conversation that I just had  
with him. My eyes close of their own volition and I feel tears  
burn behind my eyelids. It hurts to think about this. To think  
about never seeing him again.  
  
I suppose that it's fitting that in this way I should finally  
come to terms that I love him. I no longer have a job, and  
surprisingly, despite everything I'd come to terms with about  
myself, I find that I no longer care. In the desert it was just  
me and him, and that's what matters.  
  
I'll deal with everything else tomorrow, when Morris will  
come and take me back to Washington, and try to get on with our  
lives. He'll take Mulder back to the Golden Boy status that he  
formerly entertained before veering off, in typical Mulder  
fashion, in a direction all his own.  
  
I'd forgotten just how I felt a month ago when I thought that  
everything was lost to us forever. I forgot just how much I  
needed to turn in my resignation. Without the challenge of the  
X-Files, the work had no real meaning for me, and without Mulder,  
I'm once again standing in that position.  
  
No. I can't think this way. I raise my head to see the  
sunrise. After all that we've meant to each other, after all  
that we've done, I have to find a way. I can't just leave him to  
this life that isn't even his. I have to find a way to save him.  
  
To save the both of us.  
  
Words he once spoke to me ring in my mind as I move to the  
window. "The truth will save you, Scully. I think it'll save  
both of us."  
  
You're right, Mulder. You just don't know how much, and how  
true that still is. The truth *will* save us.  
  
I stand there until I hear the knock at the door, and I move  
to gather my things. It's time to go.  
  
I have a world to save. This time, I'm not some OSS agent  
from 1939 who has to turn a ship around. Nor am I a frantic  
friend and partner who will do anything to save the frustrating  
man.  
  
I'm a woman who is determined to find some sort of scientific  
answer to solve this problem, even though every other option  
seems hopeless.   
  
Science always has the answer... even if it takes time to  
find it. And I have all the time in the world to find it.  
  
**********************  
  
-End-  
  



End file.
